


Pretty in Lace

by LadyLarkFrand



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Libnyx, Lingerie, M/M, Mutual Pining, Relationship-but-not, drunk decisions, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:24:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLarkFrand/pseuds/LadyLarkFrand
Summary: It was a stupid dare, and he'd been drunk enough to take it. Nyx wasalsodrunk enough to take up the challenge of 'well let's see it' when Libertus found out.  There was a strong possibility he just needed to never drink again, ever.





	Pretty in Lace

**Author's Note:**

> Someday I'll write them in a proper, happy, healthy relationship I swear. This was also supposed be under 3k. Whoops. Here, have some Libnyx nonsense, on the house.

It had started out as a stupid dare. Stupid enough that for Nyx to even take it up in the first-place, he’d been four beers into an evening with Crowe when she’d brought it up. They’d been sprawled in his shitty little apartment, her legs sprawled over his lap and a beer in each of their hands. Some stupid movie they’d been watching had depicted the hero’s kick-ass female side-kick wearing a strapless bra and a thong under her skin-tight uniform. 

Nyx wasn’t convinced that they weren’t watching porn of some sort, but then again, he was just buzzed enough to not give a fuck one way or the other. Entertainment was entertainment in their lives, and he wasn’t going to not watch just because there was an odd amount of sex going on through his movie he couldn’t remember the name to. 

Long story short, he’d made comment about how there was no way lacy underwear and slinky bras were any good in a real combat situation. Crowe hadn’t argued in favor of the bra, but she’d noted that the underwear were good for making sure there were no panty-lines in the way thicker material did, and they were comfy to boot. Nyx could remember staring at her for a good thirty seconds as he tried to process what the mage had told him. Sipped his drink while he’d squinted at her suspiciously. 

Licked his lips, and then boldly declared, “Bullshit.” 

Crowe had smirked, and laid down a bet. If she guessed the ending of the movie, Nyx had to fulfill one dare of her choice, no exception or take-backs allowed. If Nyx won, he got the same deal. Nyx was arrogant. Nyx was a Fool. Nyx _lost_ spectacularly when the lover-slash-informant-slash-whatever turned on the hero and ended up dying, even though the hero clearly still loved her. Nyx could only stare at the credits rolling down the screen numbly. 

That was all it had taken for the full-out dare to be laid down by the grinning black-mage, that Nyx had to go twenty-four hours in a pair of undies that Crowe picked, no exceptions. Nyx was a confident man to the point of obnoxiousness, and so he’d agreed. Gladly, with the self-confidence that belonged to the drunk when they’d far out-reached their sense of self-preservation and reason. Nyx had thought it’d be no big deal. What was the worst she would do to him? With any luck, she’d have forgotten by time the morning rolled around. 

A week later, she’d presented him with a box, a smirk, and a single word: enjoy. 

It had taken him a week and a half to pull the lacy, silky piece of fabric masquerading as underwear out of the box. It was light as air in his hands, and he didn’t really want to know how his friend knew what size underwear he wore. They were black, to match his uniform, like anyone was going to know or care what color they were. They were high-cut, and lace, flower-like designs swirled through pattern. They had been about as comfortable to wear as anything. 

It had been rush to meander around town wearing them under a pair of jeans that were more than satisfactory. The brush of lace and silk, it felt dirty and wrong and Gods when he’d come while jerking himself off that night, it’d been one of the best orgasms of his life. Well, of his love-life between himself and his hand. Nyx had grumbled answers to Crowe’s questions under his breath and the woman had cackled with delight, but after a few months she’d more or less forgotten about it, he thought. 

Nyx hadn’t, not by a long shot. The panties, because as much as he hated to say the word that’s what they were, were washed quietly, and hidden away between the mattress and bed-frame. He wore them usually on his day off when he didn’t have to worry about..well, anything really. They were just the start though. It had taken some searching, discreet internet searches that left something like lust and shame waring in his gut as he’d clicked through the pictures provided, to find something a little more ideal for his line of work. 

Not that he was thinking of wearing them during working-hours or on rotation to any of the front-lines, but. Well. Sometimes lying to one’s self was easier than making a few, nasty, dirty admissions after thirty years of life. 

His second pair had been wine-red, and calling anything other than ‘boyshorts’ would have been a fucking lie. They’d been more lace, flower-printed, see-through and barely any proper support. He’d paraded around his apartment in them for the better part of the morning he got them, relishing the way they slid over his skin. Those were the first pair he wore under his uniform, that he dared to. Nothing happened, no-one was any the wiser and that was a fucking power-trip. 

After that, he acquired different types in different cuts, fabrics, colors, and he stopped worrying about it quite as hard. Sure, there were nights when he sat there and thought, ‘Am I seriously doing this?’ and then proceeded to run through his life choices that had let him to that moment. Usually, right after that soul-searching though, he’d slip on the first pair he’d gotten from Crowe, and take a walk down to the bars and clubs. Nyx was, frankly, amazed at the sheer number of men and women who noticed what he was wearing in the heat of the moment, and gaze absolutely zero fucks. 

More power to them and him, he figured. 

It was almost a year after he’d gotten the first pair, when he’d slipped his newest set on. Shorts-styled, black, but the lace only touched the legs and waist. The tops of his thighs were crossed with fabric, latticed, and the design gave his cock somewhere to sit instead of tucked. They matched the sheer, black stockings he’d pulled on, under his boots. It was supposed to be another day at work, drills, team configurations, patrols, the normal shit. 

For the most-part it was, too. 

It hadn’t been until Nyx, sans the uniform’s jacket because it was the middle of summer and he wasn’t about to give himself or anyone in his unit _heat-stroke_ because the time spent off their feet was time wasted and really, none of them did well with that thought in their little heads. He’d been crouched, watching the newest members of the Glaives dart about in almost-clumsy warps trying to essentially play a twisted version of ‘flag-football’. 

“ Uh, Nyx?” 

The voice was an easy one to recognize, Libertus and right behind him. Nyx didn’t so much as turn his head to look at him, because new recruits were like toddlers. You took your eyes off of them and some idiot ended up with a kukri in the foot and apparently, ‘no idea how that happened’. “ What?” he asked distractedly, mentally taking note of the new kids, and who he’d have to watch more carefully. 

“ What the hell are you wearin’?” 

Nyx rolled his eyes. 

“ My uniform, because I’m _working._ “ He heard a snort, and a scuff of feet. He half-expected his friend to have just wandered away again, let it go, but no. A glance over his shoulder told him that his friend had done the opposite of that, gaze glued down low, lower than what was appropriate for being in the middle of a training exercise. That was when Nyx, realized just what might have the other man’s attention. 

The low dip of his pants, excessively emphasized by the way he was crouched, left a gap between material and skin. Enough of a gap that a flash of lace could be seen and suddenly Nyx felt his blood go hot and cold all at once and he was scared to look _up_ and see what Libertus’ expression was. He’d made it to about the other man’s knees when a shout from where the newbies were supposed to be taking care of themselves sounded. 

Nyx groaned in exasperation at the sight of several new recruits tangled in a heap. “What the fuck were they doing?” he grumbled and stood up, whatever the hell had been going on between him and Libertus was forgotten. Which was good, because there was _nothing going on in the first place_. They were both adults, they could forget whatever they wanted. It wouldn’t be the first time one of them saw something and forceful forgot it in order to save both of them from ever discussing it again. 

Which was why they acted like nothing was different when they walked down the shitty little side-road towards Nyx’s apartment. Talking shit, and trying to decide if it was worth trying to find a place with air-conditioning to grab a beer or if they were better off just hiding away in the apartment and watching whatever was on cable. The deciding factor had been simply that Nyx had more than two beers in his mini-fridge and his legs fucking hurt. Soldier or not, some days your body just ached like you were green all over again. 

Two-hours later, a movie and a half, and three beers later things were a lot less present. A lot less important too. Changed into comfortable clothes, a pair of loose pants and no shirt because it was summer in the oasis of a desert, with Libertus dressed down too, it was almost like they could pretend they were back home and things were no different. It all lasted until his friend drained the last of his beer, slapped it on the table and stared vacantly at the television where something was blowing up for no discernable reason. Nyx had lost the plot twenty minutes ago, but action movies tended not to take up too much brain-power to figure out. 

“ You know, you never answered me earlier.” 

Nyx grunted, flicked a glance at his friend and then back at the screen. 

“ Told you what?” 

“ ‘bout your clothes.” 

Nyx squinted at the television and felt his heart burst into a gallop, because where the hell was the bro-code of ‘don’t ask; don’t tell’ when it came to stupid shit like that? Sipped his drink and grimaced at the too-warm-to-be-good beer that splashed down his throat as he tried to buy himself time. 

“ You wear a uniform too, Lib,” he finally managed, determined to not look at the other Glaive come hell or high water, “ what’s the big deal about mine? ‘Less you mean the whole ‘lieutenant’ thing ‘cause I thought that was pretty understand-“ 

“ Not that, ya jackass,” Lib growled at him, “ the other thing, y’know,” he gestured vaguely at Nyx, or what Nyx figured he meant to be his ass. Nyx decided he was not fucking drunk enough for whatever the hell his friend was trying to initiate with this conversation. Which was why he cracked open another beer, this one cool from the fridge. 

Two big swallows, and his head swam just a little bit more. 

“ Blame Crowe,” he finally allowed, “she’s the one who started it.” He stared at the television harder, before cutting his eyes to the side, to gauge the older man’s reaction. Libertus squinted at him, trying to put the two together, like someone had told him the alphabet went from ‘A’ to ‘C’ without touching ‘B’. Finally, he shook his head and for a brief second Nyx hoped that be the end of it, no more, no less. 

“ How-“

“ A dare, Lib, a stupid dare. I lost a bet and that she-witch thinks she’s funny.” He curled his lip slightly, and regarded his friend with a smirk, “ Kinda like you, now that I think about it.” 

Libertus snorted, but didn’t argue the point of Crowe’s sense of humor or the description. They both loved the woman to death, but she played with fire far too often to not find extreme things the only way to live life during their down-time when they weren’t on rotation. It was the pair of them who tended to pay for her line of thinking more often than not. 

“ So, what? You did the dare and you liked it and just kept doin’ it?” Libertus asked and Nyx just might have knocked himself out if it meant that he didn’t have to answer that precise question. Because obviously his friend wasn’t going to just let it go, no, that’d be way too logical and easy to do. 

“ Yeah,” he answered slowly, and this time he met his friend’s gaze. He couldn’t quite read whatever the other man was thinking, but he swallowed that back, “ trust me, you aren’t the only one who was surprised by _that_.” He had been, more than once, when he laid in bed and let the shame and delight wash over him and savored it in a way. 

“ There are worse things, “ Libertus finally conceded, and Nyx let go a breath he had only been idly aware of holding, “ s’not like you’re killin’ people.” Lib finished and Nyx barked out a short laugh and shook his head, the relief of it all making him dizzy. It was either the relief or the beer, and one had to be set aside. Nyx did just that, setting the bottle aside before he drank more or dropped it. The other man just watched him, with the bleary sort of steadiness that came with being buzzing from alcohol.

“Glad to know it’s not as bad as murder,” he finally mused and stretched on arm out on the back of the couch. 

There was almost a beat of silence before-

“ Murder ain’t sexy.” 

Nyx turned his head very deliberately to look at his friend, and this time, he noticed the way that Libertus’ eyes weren’t locked on his face. They were crawling over his body, inching in a way that Nyx wasn’t quite used to coming from his friend. It wasn’t _unwelcome_ , honestly, just like it wasn’t the first time they traded heated looks and hands had wandered. It wasn’t like Libertus wasn’t just a little more pissed when Nyx came to work hung-over and just a little more tender than he’d been the day before. 

Relationships, even physical ones, were a risk. In their line of work, it was easier to hold onto a friendship than it was to say, ‘I love you’ and ‘goodbye’ in the same breath. It wasn’t a sentiment they could voice, and the awkward placing of the whole situation was fucked up and full of what-if’s. What if Galahd hadn’t fallen, what if they were still back home, it was maddening and stupid. It was stupid that Nyx wanted it at all, and mourned something he hadn’t known more than a taste of.

“Not sexy, huh?” he asked, heart pounding in his throat and made his vision go awkward, “So what is?” 

Libertus rolled his eyes, “You gotta dig, don’t ya?” he grumbled, but Nyx could see how he swallowed, knew that he at least had the other man’s attention if not just interest,” That lace- those underwear and your ass in’em.” Libertus finished and Nyx almost wondered at the quiet, internal flush of delight that the simple words evoked. Because it did, and it wasn’t fair.

So instead he smirked, a rolling kind of expression that covered up anything else every-other time and it normally worked whenever he flashed it. This time, there was only Libertus looking at him speculatively, eyes not-quite narrowed, assessing. Nyx wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, it certainly set a low fire burning in his gut in a way that was completely unfair. 

He swallowed, and the smirk slowly slid off his face, and his brow furrowed as he cocked his head at his friend.

“ What, you want see or something?” 

Nyx could have thrown himself out of the window for that, the minute the words slipped out of his mouth because if he put himself in the hospital, with a possible concussion he wouldn’t have to relive those words with every beat of his heart and then they could pretend that it wasn’t the possibly, stupidest thing he’d ever said. 

Except, Libertus swallowed, licked his lips and growled, “Yeah.” 

The word felt like a physical blow, and Nyx inhaled sharply at the thought of it. It’d be easy to do just that, just drop his pants and let the other man _see_. Nyx liked to show off, they all knew it, he caught enough shit for doing just that professionally. He was flashy and almost obnoxious but fuck-all if it wasn’t him. Nyx swallowed, tried to reign in his pounding heart with little to absolutely no success. 

“ What?” The word came out as a croak, “ Are you serious right now?” His eyebrows felt that if they hiked much higher up his face they’d vanish into his hair forever. Libertus raised an eyebrow at him, smug in finally having one up on Nyx, and at some point, he’d have to find a way to get him back for it properly, but at the moment there was only one real solution that made any fucking sense in his head and he did exactly what he was known for. 

Doing the first thing that popped into his head, and running with it like it was his plan all along. 

“ Fine,” he retorted, lightening his voice as if it were nothing. Stood up, and made a mental note of his victory at the look of stunned surprise on Libertus’ face. It was fair to say that the movie was well forgotten by that point, with his hands on the waist-line of his pants and a mental wish for a shot of whisky to brace himself with. 

The pants hit the ground, and there he stood, like a fucking idiot. In nothing but the sheer fabric that the manufacturers were bold enough to call ‘underwear’. Nyx watched Libertus’ face, and Libertus, well, he looked at Nyx. Doubt rolled up his spine as sure as the heat did under his friend’s slightly less-than sober eyes. Nyx sighed and crossed his arms, waiting for some smart comment or something to come out of Libertus’ mouth that’d dissolve the tension that welled up. 

There was a moment of pure silence and then the other Glaive moaned quietly, sat forward on the couch, like something had jerked him forward. His gaze only briefly flicked up to his face and his fingers twitched like he wanted to _touch_. That thought had Nyx immediately thinking of ways to avoid getting blatantly hard under the scrutiny. Some things were easier to explain away than others, after-all. 

“ Fuck.” 

Nyx silently echoed the sentiment.

Libertus ran a hand over his mouth, like he wasn’t sure what to do or say. Like he needed something to do with his hands, so he wouldn’t cross that fucking line they pretended was still intact. Nyx could see the way the other man’s fingers twitched and satisfaction curled heavy and heated in his chest because of course the other man thought he was attractive. Nyx was _hot_ , he knew that, Lib knew that, and everyone else was tired of hearing about it.

“ You wear these to _work_?” he asked him, and Nyx nodded, shifted his weight to one hip and stood there on display. 

“ Wear’m out to bars to,” he added,” you would be surprised how many people go for this type of thing-“

His friend snorted with a roll of his eyes, “ On you? Bullshit. Anyone with eyes’d be turned on by this.” He gestured to Nyx, from head to toe and Nyx could only smirk in agreement. Because he wasn’t wrong, not in the proper sense of it. Unease was fading from his mind, with further the alcohol seeped into him, made his head swim just a little more with liquid courage and pure idiocy. 

“ Even you?” He asked, trying for smug and ending up curious. Libertus flushed, cocked his head at him and flashed him his teeth in a smile that slid into a smirk. He leaned back against the back of the couch and flicked his fingers at Nyx, urging him closer, as if they weren’t too old for this damn game and should have known better than to go for another round of it. 

“ Bet you’d like that,” the glaive grumbled, “havin’ everyone wanting your ass all the time. Makes ya arrogant Nyx.” Nyx didn’t argue, because he was out of defenses that claimed he wasn’t, and to be honest, he was good enough at what he did to be arrogant. So he sauntered closer, predatory, hungry, like he was a show that Libertus had paid to have put on. Because he was an asshole and because he liked the way that his friend’s eyes roved over him and drank him in like someone dying of thirst. He liked the way that the other man’s hands settled on his hips once he was close enough, too. 

“ You like me arrogant,” Nyx shot back shamelessly. 

“ Let’s me know you ain’t dyin’ if I can hear your lips flappin’, that’s for damn sure.” Libertus argeed and tugged him closer, down, until Nyx was on his knees, one planted on either side of the other Glaive’s lap on the worn-out couch they’d been sharing. There was a moment of silence, and Nyx wondered what’d happen if they ever stopped to _think_ before they did stupid shit like this. Libertus’ thumb dragged over a lace-covered hip and he frowned seriously at Nyx, “ This okay, ain’t it?” he asked, like an idiot, like Nyx perched over him wasn’t a clear ‘okay’. 

“ No,” Nyx drawled dryly, and sank down until he was on the other man’s lap properly, almost nose to nose with him and he could smell beer and sweat, with something that he called ‘Libertus’ underneath. He knew he didn’t smell like roses either, and that made it kinda better, “ I hate it. I just wanted to show you my pretty-underthings for no good reason than to prove I’ve got a better ass.” 

Libertus rolled his eyes and his hands, rough and calloused and so damn good, slid back to cup said ass, squeezing through the flimsy fabric that covered him up. Nyx sighed at the feeling, because yes-please he liked having his ass grabbed. Liked people who knew how to dig their nails in just right and leave him remembering the day after. 

The sharp crack of the older man’s hand against his ass made him jolt, a hiss tearing through his teeth because he wasn’t going to yelp. Wouldn’t give his friend the pleasure of it. Not when he already was rocking against the other man, his skin stinging where the blow had landed and found himself pressed against the bulge in the other man’s pants. Nyx’s hands landed on Libertus’ shoulders for balance and he glowered petulantly in turn. 

“ You’re a bastard.” 

Libertus smirked. 

“ Takes one to know one, least I knew who my Pops was.” Libertus returned and Nyx couldn’t help the huff of laughter. An old joke, the one that had started as an insult when they were kids and grown to be a mark of fondness. Small towns had been a bitch and when your Dad was a hunter and got himself killed, well. People talked, and they tended to forget kids listened and were like parrots. 

Nyx didn’t answer, just pressed their lips together and groaned at the eager reception. Kissed the other man like they were proper lovers and rocked slowly against him. The blood flowing to his cock, it would have been embarrassing if he couldn’t feel the tent that the other man was starting to pitch, hard as he was his hands on Nyx and it felt good. Gods it felt good, to be touched by someone who knew where to touch properly and how hard and long. 

His cock twitched in the confines of it’s lacey prison at the idea of those broad, blunt fingers pressing into him, wet with spit or lube and working him open. It’d been too damn long since they’d done that, or anything like that. Too busy, too tired, too awkward, too _angry_ , the list of ‘why not’ went on for miles and for once he was just grateful that the stars aligned at all. 

Libertus kissed him like he was drowning, tugging him down, one hand having abandoned touching him for tangling in his hair and holding him there. Nyx couldn’t complain, _didn’t_ complain, hands clutching at the older man. Desperately slipping under the shirt, over the softness of his friend’s sides and across the muscle he found too. 

Savored every little noise he pulled out of him, and sighed in delight when familiar lips parted for him. Cheap beer and Libertus, it was the best thing in a long time he’d tasted on someone else. Broad hands roamed over him, and Nyx couldn’t stop the shudder at the sensation of someone who gave a damn touching him. By time they came up for air, both of them panting and pink-cheeked, Nyx wondered just what they were going for. 

“ Hold up,” Libertus grumbled, putting a bit of space between them and Nyx could do nothing more than lick his lips, teeth following over his bottom lip as his friend undid his jeans, sighing in relief of pressure. His own cock felt confined in his boxers, not quite uncomfortable but it was fair to say that they’d be stained at the rate they were heading. 

“ Want me to take care of that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and pointedly jerking his chin towards the other man’s cock, tenting his boxers obnoxiously. Libertus rolled his eyes and Nyx could hear the yes in every way but the kind he needed. He _knew_ Libertus wanted him. That he’d take Nyx on his knees with his lips wrapped around his thick cock wearing nothing but lace and silk. It would only be knew in the sense that he was wearing anything at all. 

“ Would sayin’ it’s your fault so fuck yes be tacky?” Libertus asked, slurred really, even as his hands slipped back up Nyx’s thighs to play across the muscle there. Nyx snorted, and tried to pretend he wasn’t preening under the attention, at least just a little. 

“ You ask stupid questions,” he shot back, and rolled himself down against the straining erection, grinding in a way that made his friend throw his head back against the couch and tighten the grip on his hips tellingly. Nyx couldn’t argue with the noise because it felt fucking _good_. 

“ Nyx – fuck –“ he growled and finally wrapped his arms around him. Brought them closer, and it was messy and hot, sweaty at best. They stank of beer and sweat and of each other but that didn’t stop Nyx from crushing their mouths together again. Grunting in appreciation at the hand that reached between them and a palm pressed against his dick.

‘Sloppy’ probably didn’t even begin to cover the way they looked, and synchronicity was beyond them at that point. It turned into nothing more than desperation and teeth on skin and mouths pressed hotly against bare flesh and Nyx had _missed_ that. He had missed someone wanting him as badly as he wanted them. 

It couldn’t last long. Hell, it probably shouldn’t have ‘lasted’ period. A quick rise up onto his knees, slid the underwear lower (the damn things hadn’t been precisely cheap) where his cock sprang free and bobbed, red and leaking and hard. Tugged Libertus’ stupid pony-tail free of it’s binding, and wondered why the fuck the other man just didn’t finish braiding his hair properly, and grinned as the soft strands flowed down to touch surprisingly muscular shoulders.

Trailed his mouth lower, until he could worry a red mark against the pale skin o f the other man’s neck, just to feel the way the other man rocked up against him. Libertus’ cock, covered though it was nesting behind his balls, and fuck-all if it wasn’t tempting to simple finger himself open enough to let the other man slip in, with spit as the closest thing to lube. If he didn’t have to walk straight and proper the next day, he might have done just that. 

Pre-come slicked the way, dripping and hot, aching even in his friend’s sure grip that curled around hi dick in a familiar manner, twisting with every put that left Nyx panting against warm skin. Needing and wanting and loving it. Libertus groaned with every rock of his hips upward and against him. Both of them were lost to the friction and pleasure that raced through them, and the soft groans and grunts probably were loud enough that Nyx was going to get dirty looks from his neighbors again. That wasn’t his problem, at the moment, that was a problem for future-Nyx.

It wasn’t quite enough. ‘Almost’ didn’t cut it, not in their line of work and not in sex. 

“ Lib-“ he groaned in frustration, fingers digging into his friend’s shoulders, hard enough that it probably hurt. Libertus made a noise of annoyance, and his stomach swooped at the feeling of suddenly finding himself on his back on his crappy little couch, his friend braced above him. Nyx didn’t realize one leg hooked over the other man’s hip, yanking him closer and ruining the charade of anything coherent between the pair of them. 

“ You’re such a brat,” Libertus growled against his throat, “ always – fuck – gotta have everything your way.” The rolling of his hips, the tempo and power of it increasing, more, harder, faster, Nyx groaned loudly at the words, a smirk splitting his face, because fuck yes, he did. He wanted what he wanted, and he figured after everything, occasionally he deserved to get what he wanted when he wanted it. Just occasionally.

Sloppy and hungry, desperate and uncoordinated. Libertus rutting over him, stealing kisses hot and wet while Nyx’s hands roamed and gripped where they could. The warmth of skin, slick with sweat and almost uncomfortably warm in the already hot humidity of the Insomnia summer. Every little touch and twist and jerk between them feels so good and it’s impossible not to sink into it all. 

Libertus groaned low and heavy against Nyx’s throat and Nyx can only pant in response, “ Lib – Gods, c’mon give me- “ and whatever he was going to say was cut off as one big hand slipped between them, wrapped around his cock again, jerking him hard and rough, a hoarse yell breaking free of Nyx’s throat at the feeling, and he ignored the quiet laugh of amusement from his friend. Arrogant bastard thought he was smooth. 

“ Look pretty like this Nyx,” he growled and Nyx wondered if the flush went down his throat to his chest like it felt it did, “ gonna come all over your pretty panties like this, huh?” Libertus grunted and Nyx wanted to tell him off but all that came out was a groan and his hips arching off the couch into that too tight fist, slicked sticky with spit and pre-come. 

When Nyx came, it was with Libertus’ thumb grinding over the sensitive head of his dick, teasing his slit until it was almost painful, and Nyx figured that his bones were melting from the pleasure of it. He came with a low, harsh cry, bucking into the hand that gripped him familiarly, wringing it out of him spurt by spurt. His back arched off the couch, toes curling desperately at the familiar wash of pleasure. Libertus’ shirt would have stains on it when they were done, and Nyx was sure that his own stomach and chest were a mess of his own making. 

“ Libertus!” 

Nyx’s hips stuttered, and he was gone, floating far and away while his friend teased him through it. Distantly he was aware his friend was talking at all. 

“ Just like that,“ Libertus accented voice cut through the fog, “ Gods Nyx you got no idea-“ he seemed beyond a complete sense, deep, heaving panting breaths as he rutted against him, forehead pressed against Nyx’s shoulder and distantly that the other man was almost on the edge of coming. He knew the sound of Libertus on the edge of orgasm, of the way he tensed and twitched, how his cock twitched at the feeling of skin on skin, and how he knew what it felt like to have that cock in him, pressed hard and tight in him. 

A few more thrusts, hips stuttering and shallow and moaning brokenly, “ Nyx -Nnn – fuck, baby-!” Nyx moaned weakly at the hot surge of heat and the wetness of come splattering his thighs, cock and balls, leaving him a sticky, sweaty mess. Nyx groaned tiredly at the feeling, and guided the other man down to kiss him, slow and deep until it felt like they existed just for each other, just for a minute. 

When the broke apart, panting and tired, sore and sticky, could only comb his fingers through loose hair. 

Libertus didn’t move, not at first, and when he did it was only enough to stare at Nyx with hazel eyes that were still bright with emotions he didn’t want to think about and lust. Nyx licked his lips, and sprawled, tucking one arm behind his head and regarded his friend. It wasn’t awkward, or at least not as awkward as trying to figure out to keep someone or boot’m out afterwards. 

“ Better not have stained my couch,” Nyx grumbled and Libertus rolled his eyes in exasperation, moving to let Nyx up when he gently pushed at his shoulder, “ it’s a relic.” 

“ A relic of the garbage, maybe,” Libertus grunted, and grimaced as he used his boxers to wipe down with, which Nyx didn’t remember the other man ever taking off. A quick head-lift found that his own pair were on the living-room floor, and the movie on the television was over. Nyx hummed because the other man wasn’t wrong. Most of his furniture was shit, but he wasn’t really home often enough to justify or pay for anything more. 

He watched Libertus, head tilted and a tiny smirk playing on his lips. Libertus narrowed his eyes at him, and frowned in a way that didn’t fool Nyx in the slightest. “ The hell is that look for?” he asked and Nyx’s smirk widened into a predatory grin. 

“ It fair to say you liked what you saw?” He asked, with a quick wiggle of his eyebrows, and already knowing the answer. 

“ I hate you.” Libertus grunted, not meaning a word of it, “ Why? Need your ego pet even more tonight?” 

Nyx rolled his eyes, kicked lightly at the bigger man’s leg, before he rolled himself to his feet off the couch, meandering towards the old mattress with at least clean sheets. It was tucked away in a little corner of his apartment, springy and cheap but it kept him off the floor at night. He looked over his shoulder, leered really, and jerked his head towards the dresser with a knowing inkling developing in his gut that he probably wasn’t going to be walking straight the next day after-all. 

“ Nah,” he replied easily, “just wanted to know if you wanted to see the rest of them.” 

The answer was clear at the speed in which the other man got off the couch, hand quick to find Nyx’s skin all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> [In case you were wondering, this is what he was wearing.](https://cdn3.bigcommerce.com/s-pqndnq/images/stencil/293x438/products/3267/17319/CM99199-strappy-boxer-brief-a__85139.1473276919.jpg?c=2)
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> As always, I hope you enjoyed, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can always scream at me on tumblr [here](https://lark-shaped-friend.tumblr.com/) or even follow me twitter @larkingcat.


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